The Mine Lord: A Dwarven Survival Base-Builder

Icevein: Chapter 23

Rightauger burst into the stonehold, rushing through the reception chamber and into the feasting chamber. Chargrim looked up from his meal.“What is it?” he asked. It was clear from Rightauger’s beaming expression that there was news.

“Uncle Sledgefist has broken the ürsi host at the Rock!”

Chargrim slid his chair back and stood.

“Have runners come?”

“A party of wardens, just now,” Rightauger said. “Thousands of ürsi were slain, and the Rock stands.”

Peridot waited to see if her father would ask why Rightauger had come first with the news, but he did not appear concerned.

“Where are the wardens, now?”

“Removing their soiled kit and drinking a cup of ale. Their rinlenawaits your pleasure.”

“Have them brought to my chamber,” Chargrim answered, heading for the inner passage to the Rhûl’s Holt. Peridot looked at her mother and found with surprise that her mother was looking at .

“I want to listen,” Peridot said. Onyx appeared to weigh this for a time. At last, she rose.

“So do I,” she said. She turned to Iolite. “Are you coming?”

“No,” Iolite said, taking a bit of baked radish. “There is more I wish to do in the workshop.”

Onyx nodded and Peridot followed her toward the holt. Onyx stopped in the rear alcove and sat down upon a stool, out of sight of the main chamber of the holt but well within hearing. Peridot waited beside her, listening.

It wasn’t long before they heard the door open and Rightauger’s excited voice:

“Father, this is Beeweaver, rinlenof the fifth cadre.”

“I know the dwarf,” Chargrim answered. “Be welcome, bearer of good tidings.”

“Thank you, Irik-Rhûl,” the dwarf said.

“May I present you the cup?” Chargrim asked, and the sound of pouring liquid could be heard. Peridot blessed herself for having brought her father a pitcher of mead earlier, for otherwise, she might have been called to fill it so that the proper libation could be offered the bearer of good tidings, and she would have missed some of the conversation.

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“Thank you, rhûl,” the rinlen answered. There was a pause as the dwarf drank. Peridot heard them sit the cup back down on the stone table.

“Now,” Chargrim said. “Tell me your news.”

“Sledgefist has broken the ürsi host. They are scattered.”

“When?”

“Three nights ago.”

“You have fairly run.”

“Ay, yes, rhûl. Sledgefist asks the wardens to sally and hunt them in the valleys.”

“How many killed and wounded?”

“I do not know. It was a fierce fight.”

“You were in the battle?”

“Upon the ridge with the crossbows.”

“Tell me the way of it.”

“Sledgefist led the hammers up both sides of the river, while the wardens sallied from adits above.”

“What gave the opportunity?”

“Nothing, rhûl.”

“Were the ürsi assaulting the fortifications?”

“No. They had not made an assault in days. We had barely held under the first onslaught”

There was a pause.

“And is there no estimate of losses?”

“I. . . I’m sorry, rhûl. I was not told. Sledgefist sent us with all haste.”

“I am sure.”

“They are calling him the Fist of Sledge Rock!” Rightauger cut in.

“Ah,” Chargrim said. “A fine epithet.”

Peridot could tell from her father’s voice that he was masking his worry. Sledge Rock had been under siege for nearly a month. She had heard Chargrim complain to Onyx that Sledgefist should have abandoned the claim. The last news had come two weeks before. Sledgefist had barely managed to hold onto the main defenses along the river stretching up to the adit of Sledge Rock. Peridot and Chagrim had hardly played a game of Ingots in all that time. Chargrim had sent what wardens he could in support, but the rest had been kept busy defending the flocks from scattered ürsi packs in the valleys around Glint, for many had come over the ridge crests.

“Did Sledgefist have any other message?” Chargrim asked.

“No, rhûl. I was told to inform you of the victory, and request that the wardens be sent to scour the valleys.”

“We will hunt them as we can,” Chargrim answered. “As you know, many wardens were already at the Rock in support.”

“Ay, yes, rhûl.”

“I thank you for your speed. I am sure a feast awaits you in the Warden Hold. I release you to it. Please send Thrushbeard to me.”

“Ay, yes, rhûl.”

Onyx and Peridot heard the door open and close.

“Father,” Rightauger said.

“Hmm?”

“Will you go south with the wardens?”

“The ürsi range all through the ridges,” Chargrim replied. “I can send few away from the flocks.” Peridot also knew such a journey would be difficult for her father. Even walking the pastures of the claim wore him.

“I want to go with them,” Rightauger said.

“Absolutely not.”

“It is two months until my rhundal!”

Peridot glanced at her mother. She saw the tension of fear on her face.

“I will not discuss it more.” Her father’s tone was flat and stern, and it spoke a warning not to broach the question again.

“But—”

“Do not!” Chargrim snapped. Peridot saw Onyx flinch where she sat, but she let out a breath, her shoulders lowering slightly. There was a pause.

“I wish to speak with Thrushbeard alone,” Chargrim said. A few heartbeats later Rightauger strode into the back alcove, his face red. He jerked in surprise at the sight of Onyx and Peridot, recovered himself, set his jaw, and stormed away down the passage. Onyx rose and motioned for Peridot to follow her, but a knock came at the outer door.

“Enter,” her father called. The door opened.

“Irik-Rhûl.” The voice was not the throaty rasp of Thrushbeard. Both Onyx and Peridot hesitated.

“Ay, yes?”

“Rhûl, there is someone at the gate.” The voice spoke with hesitation. It was clearly one of the wardens on guard.

“Who?”

“It is Icevein.”